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MEMDIRS 



OF 



General William Butler 



Including a HriEf SkEtch of his FatliEr and Bratherj 

•wLld fell in thE REvolutian, at Claud's 

CrEEk, LExington Districtj S, C, 



TngBther with Incidsnts^ AnEcdatES and Stirring Evsnts 
CnnnBctad "w/ith his Lifs, 



Copyright 18S5 by T. P. Slider. 



ATLANTA, GEORGIA: 
Jas. P. Habrison & Co., Printers and Binders. 

188=). 



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GEORGIA. 



MEMOIRS 



General William Butler 



Including a Brief SkEtch of his Father and Brother, 

who fell in the RevDlutinn, at Claud's 

Crsekj Lexington Bietrictj S. C, 



Tngether Amth Incidents, Anecdntes and Stirring Events 
Ccnnected with his Life, 

o WT 9 1^85 ' 



wftsHi;rG^ 



ATLANTA, GEORGIA: 

Jas. p. Harrison & Co., Printers and Binders. 

1885. 



DEDICATED 

To the young men of our common country, who are coming for- 
ward to the front and pressing onward, that they may read and behold 
the sterling qualities of true and noble manhood ; the stern, patriotic 
virtues of men who stood steadfast and firm throughout the momc; • 
ous struggle that tried men's souls ; remembering that if disaster 
comes to the country, it must come over the ruins of the noble char- 
acters in our history. It must come trampling on the memories of 
Washington, Jefferson, Marion, Sumter, Butler and others. Before 
the patriotic instincts can be weakened and overcome, your reverence 
for those and other great men must be destroyed. You must be made 
ashamed of their achievements, and their grand sentiments must find 
no echo in your hearts. Here you will find food for study, food for 
admiration and food for example and ambition, ever teaching the 
watchword of the true American citizen. 



Dare to do right and trust the consequences to God. 
TO SOUTH CAROLINA, 



/- 



" Sweet clirae of my kindred, blest land of my birth ! 
The fairest, the dearest, the brightest on earth ! 
Where'er I may roam, however plac'd I may be, 
My spirit instinctively turns unto thee." 
Respectfully, T. P, Slider, 



PREFACE. 



To a manuscript left by the Hon. A. P. Butler, which was sent to 
Trie by some person under the signature of "Stat Umbra Nominis," 
while I was engaged in penning biographical sketches of some de- 
parted men of worth, am I indebted for a record of the Butler family 
and much of the traditionary information which is thrown forth in 
this little volume of incidents, anecdotes and stirring scenes that oc- 
curred in the dark hours of the Revolutionary struggle. In connec- 
tion has been consulted many of the quaint old histories of those days, 
while traditional stories and incidents, gathered from aged patriarchs, 
have furnished me with material sufficient to have extended this little 
volume twice its size. I trust however, what has been written, 
though it bears the impress of hoary time, and is clad to some degree 
in the habiliments of tradition, may rise upon the mind of the reader, 
as he turns over its pages in some idle hour of "the progressive 
present" like ''the swell of some sweet tune," awakening the imagina- 
tion with melting strains "that now sink to mellov notes," now die 
away, and in mysterious unison touching some tender chord, without 
producing grief or regret, leaving its thrilling memory on heart and 
soul and ear. 

The Author. 



INTRODUCTORY REMARKS- 

"While the tree 
Of freedom's wither'd trunk puts forth a leaf, 
Even for its tomb a garland let it be." 

Biography is the Store -house of experience. Its chief value is in 
the helpful information it gives, making the reader better, wiser, hap- 
pier and richer in historical events. Hence, it is the duty of a writer, 
who really desires to be of some assistance to his fellow-men ; when 
he undertakes to sketch the life of another, to write with truth and 
clearness. As such, our endeavor will be so, to entwine the history of 
the times and section in which the events occurred, with the biogra- 
phy of the patriotic partisan, that it cannot fail of being interesting 
and instructive to the young — pleasant and acceptable with the old. 
Suffice it, the person whom we are attempting to portray and place 
before you : threw his whole soul toward the accomplishment of na- 
tional independence. He labored to break, if possible, the connection 
with the mother country, and open the way to the duties and ad- 
vantages of popular government. National independence was the 
first epoch in our history ; and such was its importance that Lafayette 
boasted to the first consul of France, that although its battles were but 
mere skirmishes in comparison with his, they decided the fate of the 
world. Casting a retrospective glance over the revolutionary history 
of our country, it is profoundly interesting to notice how the life-work 
of our revolutionary patriots appears to run naturally into the life-work 
of the nation ; until we almost seem to feel the warm, patriotic spirit of 
these noble men speaking to us telephonically, through decades of 
years in their heroic manliness, 

" Strike till the last armed foe expires. 
Strike for your altars and your fires." 

In the management of God of the universe ; there are no accidents, 
from the fall of a sparrow to the fall of a nation ; from the movement 
of a planet to the sweep of a meteor. All is in accordance with the 
designs of Divine Providence, whose laws are mysterious and inscru- 



6 

table. It was no accident which gave to South Carolina, in the trying 
times of her history, the patriots whom we now feel disposed to honor 
—Captain James Butler and his sons. 

" Aye, honor decks the turf that wraps their clay." 

It was no accident which took the father and his youngest son away 
so suddenly and violently from their patriotic duties and their home, 
and left one who was— 

" To face fearful odds 
For the ashes of his father 
And the temple of his gods," 

fighting his way with vigilant eyes, ever watching his foes, who 
were prowling around him, and aiming their blows. If ever men sac- 
rificed their health, fortunes and lives for their country's welfare, it 
was the members of this family. Two fell side by side, father and 
son ; and one, struggling amid the storms of fate, fought his way, like 
another Chevalier Bayard, to preserve those sacred rights which we 
now enjoy. If Kosciusko shone forth through the light of biograph- 
ical narrative ; surely it will be no infringement on the rights of those 
who have remained unforgotten, that the subjects connected with this 
memoir, should not command a reverence equal to any, who figured in 
the arena for liberty. Scores of men spend their efforts and their 
lives in the public service, and yet are solely bent on serving them- 
selves. The test of patriotism is in sacrificing self-interest to the in- 
terest of one's country. They, — only thought of the public good, sim- 
ply, purely, constantly, devotedly and sacrificingly. 

The accumulated force of centuries is with us. The gentle in- 
fluences of Christianity, the broad and liberalizing tendency of mod- 
ern culture, the immortal spirit of hopes and aspirations, crushed and 
buried beneath the ruins of past ages, with the profoundly interesting 
problem of self-government, is with us. The magnificent panorama, 
of thousands of cities, towns and villages, with their crowded popu- 
lation and stately structures of every character; whose spires rise 
heavenward, and glisten and sparkle beneath the rays of the noonday 
sun ; with factories of every description, from v/hich comes borne 
along on the wings of the breeze, as it flits on by, the shrill whistle of 
the engine and the clatter of machinery ; with radiating lines of rail- 
loads, from center to circumference, over which speeds the iron horse; 



with the huge steamships and sailing vessels, carrying thousands of 
tons and cutting the waves of all oceans ; with the telegraph, printing 
press, sewing machine, phonograph, papyrograph, electric light, and 
what not ; with the illimitable acres of cultivated ground, enriched by 
golden heads "of wheat, swelling ears of corn and snowy pods of 
cotton ; with the millions — the bone and sinew of the country — en- 
gaged in manipulating the soil, wielding the hammer and the saw, the 
sound of which is heard on every side, is also with us ; proving and 
demonstrating that we are moving forward to-day in the march of 
nations, proudly conscious of the importance of our mission ; the sa- 
cred indestructibility of the country, and the principles for which just 
such men as we are describing, fought, bled and died. In the 
strictest sense, we are the heirs of all the ages, — and as we move for- 
ward in the gradual unfolding and development of our national life, we 
should remember, cherish and carry with us, in everything we do, a 
strong impetus, drawn from the struggles, the aspirations and hopes 
of the future, entertained by the gallant patriots of the past, 

" Who waved the sword on high 
And swore with her to live— with her to die." 



GENERAL WILLIAM BUTLER, 

The subject of this memoir, was born in Prince William county, 
Va., in 1759. His father, Captain James Butler, emigrated with his 
family to South Carolina, and settled in what was called then, the Dis- 
trict of " 96," a few years before the opening of the Revolution. The 
circumstances of the times, pregnant then with the seeds of revolu- 
tion, were such that every loyal-minded Whig was deeply interested in 
the affairs of the colonies. To doubt and waver was characteristic of 
the Tories. Captain Butler and his four sons were true patriots, im- 
bued with the principle that — come what would— they would battle for 
the rights of the colonies to the death. The times grew warmer and 
warmer politically, and they prepared to take an active part in tne 
scenes that were approaching. Actuated by a desire to put his house 
in order before the fury of the storm was upon him, he commenced to 
arrange his domestic affairs ; but before he had completed his arrange- 
ments, he was earnestly called upon to engage in the public concerns 
of the country. Without a moment's hesitation, he entered cheer- 
fully in the snow-camp expedition under General Richardson. After 
this, he was with General Williamson in his expedition against the 
Cherokee Indians in 1779. 

When the conflict which had been raging in the North was trans- 
ferred by a n-w movement, as a change of base in warlike operations, 
of from North to South, the war m.ay be said to have been inverted. 
Then it was the North was abandoned by the British for a time, and 
South Carolina and the adjacent settlements became the principal 
theatre of offensive operations. Upon the call for General Lincoln, who 
had been placed in command of the Southern forces. Captain Butler 
repaired at once to head-quarters, which was located near Augusta, 
Ga. Unfortunately he was taken sick, and became unable to follow 
the army in the subsequent campaign. From this period few events of 
revolutionary interest occurred in the upper districts of the State until 
after the fall of Charleston. The capitulation of the forces in the city, 
and the dispersion or retreat of the small detached corps which had 



10 

kept the field during the siege, was regarded by the royal commander 
as a restoration of British authority, and both civil and military or- 
ganizations were arranged to maintain it. The inhabitants of the State 
were called upon to swear allegiance to British authority and take Brit- 
ish protection. The village of Ninety-six was designated as a place for 
the citizens of the surrounding country to appear at for this purpose 
The proclamation was considered delusive, and many persons ap- 
peared on the specified day without fully understanding its import. 
Among them was Captain James Butler, who, when informed of what 
was demanded of him, positively refused to conform to the terms of 
the proclamation. The British-officer in command immediately put him 
in irons and threw him in Ninety-Six jail, from whence he was trans- 
ferred to Charleston, where- he was confined in the "provost" for i8 
months. Upon his release from this severe and lengthened imprison- 
ment, which occurred in the latter part of December, 1 781, he re- 
turned once more to his home, where he remained about three weeks; 
when he was called on to seal with his life his devotion to the cause, 
for which he had already suffered so much. The incidents of the bloody 
tragedy in which he died can be paralleled only in the annals of civil 
strife. 

From the beginning of the contest with the mother country, a differ- 
ence of opinion had existed in the State upon the subject. South Caro- 
lina had been a province of the Crown. The grievances complained 
of by the commercial colonies were unfelt by her. The tories, or 
scouilitesy insisted that the King had laid no new burdens or taxes on 
the people, and that, therefore, their opposition to the royal govern- 
ment was groundless. The act as it respected South Carolina was true, 
but the conclusion drawn from it did not follow. No new burdens 
had been laid on the inhabitants of the province of Carolina, but the 
most grievous had been laid on Massachusetts, in pursuance of princi- 
ples which equally applied to Carolina, and struck at the foundation of 
her boasted rights. The fact is, a strong conservative feeling per- 
vaded a large class of her people. This feeling was strongest in the 
up-country. There the inhabitants took arms from the beginning. Upon 
both sides of the question there were to be found rash, hard-headed, 
impulsive, ignorant, prejudiced men, and the contest became fierce, 
merciless and bloody. Outrage and tyranny, producing reprisals, as- 



11 

sumed a savage, guerrilla character, in which says General Greene: 
"The inhabitants pursued each other like wild beasts, killing each 
other, robbing each other without regard to age, condition or sex, as 
well as plundering and firing barns, houses and whatever came to 
hand." 

A marauding party of royalists made an incursion into the neigh- 
borhood of Mount Willing, in Edgefield District, near which Captain 
Butler lived, carrying off considerable booty. The result was, a band of 
Whigs was formed immediately for the pursuit and punishment of the 
bandits. Captain Butler was called upon to take command of the 
party. At first he positively refused to do so, alleging that the hard- 
ships and sufferings he had endured in prison had rendered him at 
that time utterly unfit to take charge of such an expedition, and there- 
fore should exempt him from the undertaking. 

The majority of the men excused him on these grounds, but his son, 
James Butler, one of the party, refused to continue with the expedi- 
tion, unless his father assumed the command. Captain Butler yield- 
ed to the appeal of his son, and consented to go at his request, but 
simply as an adviser ; the active command being in a man by the name 
of Turner. Pursuit being instituted, the Royalists were overtaken, de- 
feated and dispersed at Farrar's Spring, in Lexington District, S. C, 
and the horses and cattle, which they had captured, recaptured. On 
their return with the captured booty, being highly exhilarated with 
their success, and rendered more particularly so by an improper use 
of peach brandy, which they had captured in the fight, they concluded 
to stop at a place on Cloud's Creek for the night and encamp, not- 
withstanding the appeals and urgent remonstrances of Captain Butler, 
who insisted on moving forward all night. Finding his advice disre- 
garded as to advancing, he counseled the necessity of the ordinary mili- 
tary precautions against surprise, of placing out sentinels, but they 
turned a deaf ear to all advice. They were mostly young men, of but 
little experience, yet confident, as youth is, and then the worst of it, 
under the influence of liquor. Their success and indulgence had ren- 
dered them overweeningly reckless, conceited and careless, just as we 
find them to-day. It was not known then exactly who were the loy- 
alists, as they were sometimes called, they had pursued and whom 
they had discomfited ; but the next morning demonstrated the wis- 



12 

dom and sagacity of the advice given by the gray-headed counselor, 
Captain Butler. They proved to have been a detached party connect- 
ed with a larger band, for about sunrise this band.amounting to some 
three hundred men, guided by some of the escaped, discomfited party, 
under the lead, too, of one of the bravest and most skillful partisans of 
the Royal side, yet sanguinary, vindictive, relentless, and unforgiving, 
to-wit : Bloody Bill Cunningham was seen approaching, who at 
once attacked the camp. Taken almost by surprise, and by this to a 
certain degree disorganized, the little squad of imprudent Whigs, about 
thirty in number, nevertheless rallied for a moment and took refuge in 
an unfinished log house without doors or windows. In the meantime 
the house was surrounded by Cunningham's men when firing com- 
menced. After a few moments of rapid discharges, a demand of sur- 
render peremptorily was made. Its terms were inquired of by the 
Whigs, and the response was of the Tory leader, "they were uncon- 
ditional", but that he would receive a communication from them. 
Upon this Smallwood Smith, one of the party, was, selected to perform 
the duty. Upon presenting himself, Cunningham's first inquiry was. 
Who are of your party ? 

Upon learning that young James Butler, the son of Captain Butler, 
who had been engaged in an affair in which one Radcliff, a noted Tory 
was killed, was among them, he determined at once to give no terms 
that would exempt this young man from his vengeance. Cunningham 
was well acquainted with the father, having served with him in the ex- 
pedition against the Indians, to which allusion has already been made. 
It is said that Cunningham had rather a strong liking and partiality 
for him, and would have entertained terms of friendly capitulation 
with the party had it not been for the presence of the son. Captain 
James Butler sent Cunningham a message that if he would spare the 
life of his son, he would make an unconditional surrender of himself, 
Young Butler, however, learning Cunningham's animosity to himself, 
and entertaining the impression that his father and himself would be 
sacrificed in the event of any surrender, determined to run all hazards 
of a contest of arms, and fearlessly informed his father that he would 
settle the terms of capitulation. So on the first opportunity that pre- 
sented itself, he commenced the combat anew by killing a Tory by the 
name of Stewart. It is said that negotiations had been entered into 



13 



to save the officers and sacrifice the privates ; but be this as it may, 
this demonstration of courage concluded the parley,, and young 
Butler (but nineteen years of age,) received a mortiil vi^ound in the 
fierce conflict that followed, while kneeling to pick his flint for a dis- 
charge. The gallant, but expiring boy called his father, who had come 
upon the expedition at his request, unarmed, simply as a counselor, to 
his side, handed him his rifle and told him there were yet a few bullets 
in his pouch and to revenge his death. The father took the gun and 
discharged it against the enemy until the ammunition was expended. 
The death of young Butler produced a panic in the little party, con- 
tending against such hopeless odds, and the result was unconditional 
surrender. After a formal meeting and consultation of the officers of 
the Tory squad, under the guidance of the blood-thirsty and execrable 
chieftain Cunningham, the terrific order was issued to put them all to 
the unsparing sword of retaliation and revenge. Two of the number 
managed to escape ; the balance were shot down and slaughtered 
where they stood. Captain James Butler caught up a pitch-fork that 
was lying around and defended himself until his right hand was sev- 
ered by a sabre stroke, and his life ended by a rifle ball. The tragedy 
did not cease here. A detachment of the Tories under the command 
of Prescott, a subordinate leader, was left to meet any burying party 
that might be sent to inter the bodies of the mangled victims and es- 
pecially to meet the subject of our memoir, then a Captain of Rangers, 
who it was expected would hasten to the spot. But \yilliam Butler 
was too far from the sad locality to be present even at the funeral cere- 
monies. 

In those days, when population was sparse and when the passions of 
men, like as to-day, embittered by fierce political strife, swelled to un- 
controllable highths, smothering every kindly feeling, and engendering 
hate and animosity of the most malignant nature, it seemed utterly im- 
possible for them to act upon the principles of mercy, love and charity. 
Under the circumstances and excitement of the times, it would have 
been madness and sheer folly for the Whigs, unless strongly supported, 
to have undertaken the burial of their dead without an agreement.- In 
this crisis, when head strong passion got the reins of reason, like a 
ship dashed by fierce encountering tides becomes the sport of wind 
and wave, and there seemed no prospect or way of coming to any 



14 

'terms ; for the Tories were relentless and determined, and the Whigs 
powerless to act, there appeared on the arena of strife a new actor; 
one who has played a prominent part in the history of the world; in 
the plucking of an apple in the Garden of Eden; the mothership of 
the Saviour, and the appropriation of gorgeous jewelry when kings re- 
fused to act; thereby aiding to develop and lay open to view by de- 
grees along the shores of the unremitting stream of the centuries, that 
have glided into the present in the universe of God, for the benefit of 
man — a new continent and a new world that stands to-day at the 
head of nations. This actor was woman. Aye ! it was woman 
who stepped between the combatants and advanced with more than 
Spartan courage and devotion to perform the rites of interment. ^ 
was woman with her wisdom who carried and d^ided the difficulty. 
Souls know no difference of sexes ; though man may be said to be the 
lord, it does not fbllcw he has the monopoly of brain or courage or 
patriotism. Many a masculine heart and more than masculine has 
been found in a female breast ; nor is the treasure of wisdom, or any 
of the nobler characteristics, the less valuable for being lodged in the 
weaker vessel. Truthfully has the poet said 

" 'Tis woman's hand that smooths aflliction's bed, 
Wipes the cold sweat and stays the sinking head." 

Sages may teach, poets may sing, and philosophers reason, but 
nature made woman to temper man. Without her man would have 
been a brute— a savage — influenced by passions and appetites, living 
serpents that would have wound like the gorgons round him; stran- 
gling those virtues which constitute his happiness and cheers him on 
to a happier shore. In the darkest hour of man's earthly ills, her 
affection and her courage rises and glows 

"Throbs with each pulse, and beats with every thrill. 

Mrs, Sarah Smith, a sister of Captain James Butler, the father, 
(whose wife at this time was confined to her bed) with a number of 
other ladies, wives, mothers and sisters of the dead, hastened to the 
bloody scene to engage in their burial ; Captain Butler's body was re- 
cognized by his severed hand. The mangled and unmercifully beaten 
bodies.of the rest were so disfigured that it was impossible to recog- 
nize them. However, young Butler was supposed to be identified by 



15 

liis female relatives present. To the honour of the women present be 
it said, that with spade and hoe in hand ; they set to work, dug the 
trench and consigned to their resting-place the bodies of the murder- 
ed Whigs, save Captain Butler and his son, who were placed in a sepa- 
rate grave, prepared by his sister and relatives, which was marked at 
the time, and over which, in after years, was reared an humble monu- 
ment, the tribute of filal piety. 

"And though the mound that raark'd their names, 

Beneath the wings of time, 
Has worn away ! Their's is the fame 

Immortal and sublime, 
For who can tread on Freedom's plain 

Nor wake her dead to life again," 

It was about the time of this sad event that Gen. Lincoln issued a 
proclamation from his camp at Black's Swamp, near Augusta, that 
William Butler, the subject of this memoir, repaired to his standard as 
lieutenant of militia. The American leader's purpose was with the 
view, Ramsay says, of limiting the British to the sea coast of Georgia, 
as well as of its reclamation. Leaving a corps of observation at 
Purysburg. under Moultrie, he marched with the main army up the 
Savannah river, that he might impart confidence to the country, and 
crossed high up ; but he had scarcely done so, when his sagacious ad- 
versary Prevost, availing himself of the critical time, and finding his 
way open to Charleston, made a brilliant dash for the capture of that 
city, and had nearly succeeded. When Prevost crossed the Savannah 
river, Charleston was almost wholly defenceless. Such a move as an 
invasion on the land side was unexpected. Lincoln nevertheless Pre- 
vost's move, pursued his original intention, from an idea that Prevost 
meant nothing more than to divert him from his intended operations 
in Georgia, by a feint of attempting the capital of South Carolina. In 
the meantime Moultrie threw himself in his path, met him at Willis- 
ling and Coosawhatchee, and by a defensive, masterly retreat, delay- 
ed his advance until field works sufficient to withstand an assault could 
be thrown up for defence of the city. During these events Lincoln 
hastily marched back from the interior of Georgia, recrossed the Sa- 
vannah river, and pushed on after Prevost with hasty strides, while 
Governor Rutledge, with 600 militia from Orangeburg, and Col. Harris, 



IG 

with 300 Continental troops from the vicinity of Augusta, were striving 
to get ahead of Prevost and reinforce Moultrie. Having a knowledge 
of these things, Prevost advanced to Watson's, about a mile from the 
lines. As the garrison were unprepared for a siege, they stood to their 
arms all night. Presuming that Lincoln was close behind Prevost, to 
gain time for his coming up, they sent a message to Prevost, request- 
ing to know on what terms a capitulation would be granted ; this was 
a ruse. Whatever was the presumption of the Whigs, as to what effect 
this trick might have, on the next morning Prevost and his army were 
gone, retreating by way of the islands, to Savannah. The militia of the 
up-country were then discharged ; but William Butler, who was con- 
nected with the detachment engaged in the action at Stono, remained 
and attached himself to Pulaski's legion, in which he served the re- 
mainder of the campaign of 1779. He was with the gallant Pole un- 
til his death at the siege of Savannah, and always spoke of him as a 
bold, dashing dragoon officer, and complimented his memory by nam- 
ing one of his grandson's after him. 

During the captivity of his father in Charleston, already narrated, 
all the responsibilities of family obligations devolved on William But- 
ler. It was at this time too, the time immediately succeeding the fall 
of Charleston, when sprang into existence that brilliant roll of parti- 
san leaders— Marion, Sumter, Butler, Gandy, the Postells, Benson^ 
Greene, Conyers, McCauley, McCottry, Ryan, Watson, and others of 
South Carolina, whose achievements threw such a halo of glory and 
gorgeous chivalry over the war in the South, that— 

" The tilt, the tournament, the vaulted hall. 
Fades in its glory on the spirit's eye, 
And fancy's bright and gay creation— all 
Sinks into dust, when reason's searching glance 
Unmasks the age of Knighthood and romance." 

It was about this time that Washington appointed, at the request of 
Congress, General Greene to take command of the forces in the South- 
ern District, which he did in August, 1780. From this time the de- 
pression and gloominess, which had settled like a funeral pall over the 
minds of many of the people upon the fall of Charleston, began ta 
disappear, until it was entirely removed from public sentiment, and 



17 

South Carolina rose like a Phoenix from the ashes and became one of 
the most heroic and warlike colonies of the Revolutionary league. 

General Greene's movements on Ninety-Six, is a matter of history. 
At that time William Butler was serving under General Pierson on the 
Carolina side of the Savannah river near Augusta. He was present 
at the siege of Augusta, and after the fall of that place, having been 
detailed by General Pickens to attend Colonel Lee to Ninety-Six, then 
being besieged also, he had the honor of being present at the interview 
between Greene and Lee, in which the latter suggested the attack 
upon the stockade. General Butler always expressed himself with much 
emphasis when speaking of this interview, repeating the words of 
Lee, "That the spring must be taken." To which Greene replied by 
saying, "How can it be done without a general assault ?" Lee re- 
sponded, " Allow me to take the stockade on the opposite side, and 
my guns will soon drive them from the water." The stockade was 
taken, and the garrison deprived of the use of the spring. An opera- 
tion which it has been contended by military critics, if accomplished 
at a certain period of the siege, would have resulted in the lall of the 
place before it could have been relieved. As it was, Cruger, command- 
ing the garrison, managed to prolong his defense by sinking wells in 
the star redoubt. Terms of capitulation had been proposed, which 
Green refused, believing he could still take the place by pushing the 
sap against the star redoubt. The approach of Lord Rawdon with a 
relieving force blasted his hopes. A corps was detached to meet 
Rawdon, while an assault upon an incomplete breach was hazarded. 
Some skirmishing between Rawdon's advance guard and this corps 
took place near Saluda Old Town, in which some were killed and sev- 
eral wounded. A young lieutenant from Virginia, by the name of 
Wade, was shot, and as he fell from his saddle, for he was mounted — 
with a genuine trooper's care for his steed — forgetting himself — he 
exclaimed to his comrades, " Don't let my horse, boys, fall into the 
hands of the enemy." Fortunately there was a settler close by, by the 
name of Sam Savage, to whose house he was removed. 

The American forces fell back, and marched toward the Enoree river. 
But a short time after this little skirmish, a young dragoon officer who 
vvas in pursuit of Greene, with a white plume and the cockade of the 
Whigs in his hat, accompanied by an orderly, rode up to Savage's, 



18 

where the wounded young lieutenant was lying, made inquiries, and 
learned from his step daughter in the house, who had just returned from 
the vicinity of Ninety-Six, that the siege was raised, and that Greene's 
forces had fallen back in full retreat, crossed Saluda at the Island Ford, 
with Lee's legion bringing up the rear. This young officer was Captain 
William Butler, and, strange to say, this was his first meeting with the 
lady, whom he subsequently married. He had been detached from the 
army at Ninety- Six some weeks before, upon some separate service un- 
der General Henderson, from whom he derived his commission as cap- 
tain in 1 78 1. He determined in his mind at once to join the retreating 
army, and being told that two stragglers from Rawdon's command 
were down in Savage's low grounds taking the plantation horses, he took 
them prisoners, and, mounting one of them behind himself and the 
other behind his orderly, swam the Saluda river near what is now called 
Bozeman's Ferry, and joined Lee about ten miles from the Island 
Tord on the Newberry side. He learned from the prisoners that Raw- 
don had pushed forward a strong light corps, embracing cavalry and 
infantry, in hot pursuit of the retreating Americans. 

When William Butler came up with Lee, he informed him 
of the pursuit, and the information came none too soon. Lee had 
halted his command, and was lying on his saddle blanket, making a 
pillow of the saddle. His prompt direction to Armstrong, one of his 
captains, as soon as he received the information, was, " Form your 
troop in the rear and fight while we run." The legion was barely on 
the march when the enemy appeared, but Armstrong made the re- 
quired demonstration with such gallantry and confidence that the en- 
emy, apprehending an engagement with a stronger force, paused for 
reinforcements, and Lee was enabled to put himself in closer communi- 
cation with the main body, which was then halted at Bush Creek. Af- 
ter this time, William Butler became a partisan, sometimes serving as 
second in command under Ryan, and sometimes in the same position 
under Watson, both partisan leaders of local distinction. At a sub- 
sequent period he raised and commanded a company of mounted ran- 
gers, under a commission from General Pierson, confirmed by the 
Governor of the State. While serving under Watson, he was engaged 
in an expedition against a band of Tories, who had organized themselves 
on the Edisto. The expedition rendezvoused at the ridge in Edgefield, 



19 

District. Michael Watson, the leader, was a determined, resolute, yet 
revengeful man, and controlled too much by the influences which 
these feelings suggested. When they met the Tories at Drow Swamp, 
the latter were stronger than had been expected, and occupied a well 
fortified position. Nettled and somewhat exasperated at finding he 
had been entrapped, instead of being governed by discretion, he 
pushed on, disdaining a retreat. The consequence was, his men fell 
back at the first fire, with symptoms of panic, and made a faltering re- 
sponse to his order to charge. But few obeyed with the ready alac- 
rity with which they were want to welome it. Many obeyed not at all. 
The result was a second order, and they were driven back again; then 
the stern old warrior, maddened, and shouting in stentorian tones his 
"rally," ordered his men to charge, or woe to the man who failed to do 
his duty; but only about fifteen men came up to the call. They had gone 
into the fight against superior numbers, strongly posted in the swamp; 
which position they still maintained. Watson now became furious, and 
losing his judgment,'persisted in his attempts. At length, while loading 
his rifle behind a tree, he was mortally wounded by a ball through his 
hip. William Butler, at this decisive moment, assumed the command, 
giving his lieutenancy to a man by the name of John Corley. The ex- 
treme danger in which the party had been placed by the rashness of 
Watson required a resort to desperate measures, so he placed Corley 
in the rear, with an order to cut down the first man who gave way. It 
so happened that Joseph Corley, a brother of the one first spoken of, 
with others was seen to fall back, which, if it had been overlooked, would 
have doomed the fate of the balance to certain destruction. John Corley, 
true to the orders of his leader, drew his pistol, and placing the muz- 
zle at the head of his brother, ordered him back to his post. Joseph 
returned without a dissenting word, and conducted himself afterward 
gallantly throughout the fight. During the affray, a man by the name 
of Vardell was mortally wounded, and before the breath left him, 
begged his 9omrades not to let his body fall into the hands of the To- 
ries. Watson, lying between the contending parties, made a similar 
request, especially to William Butler. " Billy, my brave boy," ex- 
claimed the wounded partisan chief, " Do not let the cussed Tories 
take my body." 

Desperate and recklesF, Butler and his men, with a wild, demoniac 



20 

shout that rang out on the welkin as from so many furies, made a ter- 
rible charge that bore down everything before it, scattering the tories 
on the right and left, and succeeded also in bringing off their dead and 
wounded comrades. As they retreated, they found time to bury the 
body of Vardell, concealing it under the roots of a large oak which 
had fallen, covering it over with dirt and leaves by the use of their 
swords. At some little distance from the scene of the conflict, they 
took refuge in a log house, which answered the purpose of a block- 
house and resting place. Watson, though sorely wounded, and under 
the apprehension of death, still maintained a determined resolution. 
A woman happened to be found in the house in which they had taken 
shelter, whose infant, five weeks old, was in a dwelling house some 
little distance off. Watson insisted that she should be detained, as 
their peculiar condition and weakness required concealment if possi- 
ble, as he said, she might betray them ; but she, finding this out, 
hooted at the idea of betraying her Whig friends. Through her they 
found means, however, to convey information of their whereabouts, 
and their perilous situation, to Orangeburg, where there was a de- 
tachment. Captain (subsequently; General Rumph, as soon as ap- 
prised, hastened to their relief. Under his escort Watson was carried 
upon a litter, in a dying condition, to Orangeburg Court House, where 
he expired, and was buried with military honors. Captain Butler su- 
perintending. 

After this, we find the subject of this memoir acting as lieutenant 
with Ryan. Here he engaged in another expedition against the Tories 
in Orangeburg District. The Whigs were in force near the court 
house. A number of Tories, believing their condition perilous, and 
their cause on the wane, deserted to the Whig force. Ryan, distrust- 
ing them, gave orders in an engagement to place them in front, with 
positive instructions if they wavered for his men to shoot them down. 
In a fight that occurred they proved true, but Ryan was disabled by a 
shot, and Lieutenant Butler assumed the command. The Tories here 
were signally defeated. 

In 1782, Cunningham, the celebrated Tory partisan, made a second 
incursion into the 96th District. Perfectly familiar with the country 
from his youth, possessed of great sagacity and fertility of genius in 
military expedients, wary ard strategetic, endowed with all the physi- 



21 

-cal qualities so essential to a partisan, withal bold, dashing and reck- 
less, he was even, if a Tory, a dangerous as well as a formidable ad- 
versary to contend with. A favorite manoeuvre of his was to divide 
his command upon the march into small detachments, to be concen- 
trated after the Napoleonic plan by different routes, meeting, as near 
as could be calculated upon, close to or at the point at which his blow 
was aimed. In this manner he had concentrated his forces at Corrodine's 
Ford on the Saluda. William Butler, who was then commanding a 
company of rangers under the authority of General Pickens, with a 
portion of his men, manoeuvered to come upon him, if possible, and 
take him by surprise. With a view to ascertain Cunningham's posi- 
tion, he resorted to a ruse. Approaching the residence of Joseph Cun- 
ningham, near the junction of the little Saluda and big Saluda, he 
sent forward his brother, Thomas Butler, with Abner Corley, to the 
house in the night. Thomas Butler was an excellent mimic, so when 
he came in hailing distance of the house, he called aloud, imitatmg 
the voice of one of William Cunningham's men, named Niblett, and 
asked where our friend Cunningham was ? The wife of Joseph Cun- 
ningham, coming to the door, replied, "That he had crossed Corrodine's 
Ford." With this information, William Butler himself rode up to the 
house, and finding Joseph Cunningham there, compelled him, on peril 
of his life, to guide the party across the ford. They crossed the ford 
at 12 m. that night, and next morning halted in a peach orchard, near 
Bouknight's Ferry, on the Saluda. The horses were unbitted with 
saddles on, and were feeding upon peas out of a caddy, when a gray 
mare, which Cunningham was known to have taken from the neigh- 
borhood, was observed passing back, having escaped from the camp. 
This incident disclosed, in some measure, the state of affairs, and the 
Rangers received the orders to march. The Rangers numbered some 
thirty, and Cunningham's men some twenty. The bloody transaction 
of Cloud's Creek. 

'Feeding its torch with the thought of wrong," 

aroused the passion, stirred up the blood and enthused the chivalrous 
spirit of Butler, to grapple with the bloody tiend and wreak if possible 
vengeance for the deed. It was not the vengeance as sought for by 
an assassin. It was not to be taken in a dastardly manner ; no mid- 



22 

night shot gun from behind a tree, or the sudden plunge of a sharp' 
knife; the coward's virtue, through the heart — no ! It was an encoun- 
ter to be like as between the knights of old; an encounter rather with 
the feelings of the duello than the battle field. Approaching the par- 
tisan's position, John Corley was detailed with eighteen men to gain 
the rear, and upon a concerted signal to commence the attack. While 
the main body advanced undercover of a hedge, the Tories were dry- 
ing their blankets by their camp fires, and Cunningham himself was 
at a little distance off from his band. As it afterwards appeared, 
Butler's person being at one time exposed, in advancing before the ^^ig- 
nal was given, he was observed by the Tories, but taken for their own 
leader, (or it is said there was a strong personal resemblance be- 
tween the two men. Upon the giving of the signal, Corley made a 
furious and dashing assault, himself foremost, like another Murat in 
leading the charge 

"Thus joined the band, whom mutual wrong, 
And fate and fury drove along." 

This was the first intimation to the Tories that their exasperated 
foes were at hand. Cunningham was promptly at his post ; but al- 
though taken by surprise, his eyes were open, and he saw at a glance 
that his foes were superior in numbers ; but so wary was he, 

"By trial of his former harms and cares," 

governed too by the adage that "discretion is the better part of valor," 
that he shouted out to his men to take care of themselves, and has- 
tened to his saddleless steed, released the bridle reins, and then on 
her bare back nimbly leaped astraddle, with a trained partisan's quick- 
ness, and went bounding through the wild woods like another Mazep- 
pa. Close behind him dashed Butler in hot pursuit. Nothing could 
have been more exciting, and more to have been desired by him 

"Away !— away ! and on they dash ! 
Torrents less rapid and less rash." 

Both men were remarkably fine riders, and tradition has preserved 
the names of the two horses they rode on that occasion. Cunningham 
was mounted on a stylish, splendidly formed black mare having glossy- 
skin, trim legs, with three white feet. 

"Who looked as though the speed of thought 
Were in her limbs," 



23 



that had become celebrated in his service as "Silver Heels," while But- 
Ut rode a noble-looking, broad-breasted, long- hoofed, straight legged, 
passing strong steed, a dark bay, with full eyes and nostrils wide 
called "Ranter," who possessed great powers of endurance. Butler 
carried only a sabre, and Cunningham pistols which had been render- 
ed useless by the rain of the previous night, for he snapped them 
both repeatedly over his shoulders at his ad/ersary as the gallant mare 
went thundering on 

"With flowing tail and flying mane 
With nostrils never stretched by pain." 

Life or death to both hung upon the fleetness of their horses. As 
long as the chase was in the woods, Ranter maintained his own ; but 
when thev struck an open trail, in which the superior stride of Cun- 
ningham's thorough-bred, could tt.U. turning his body, with his head 
thrown round, looking over his left shoulder askance at Butler, hold- 
ing tightly the reins in his left hand, while a trumphant smile played 
over his countenance, he patted the shoulders of the noble animal that 
bore him, tauntingly excl?iming, as he threw out his right hand be- 
hind him, shaking his forefinger — "Damn you, Bill Butler, Im safe ; 
but mark, the next chase will be mine !,' when 

Away ! away ! dashed Silver heels 
Upon the pinions of the wind, 
Leaving Ranter far behind; 
She sped like a meteor thro' the sky 
When with its crackling sound the night, 
Is chequer'd with the northern light, 

and soon was seen with her rider on her back swimming Saluda river 
near Lorick's Ferry. Sullenly Butler returned from the pursuit of 
Cunningham. At the Tory camp he found a p jrtion of his command 
assembled under circumstances which gave him great concern. Tur- 
ner, one of the Tory prisoners, had been deliberately shot through the 
heart after he had surrendered. Alas ! 

"There's was the strife 
That neither spares nor speaks for life." 

Upon inquiry he ascertained one Seysin had done the deed, who 
justified himself by reciting an outrage the unfortunate man had in- 
flicted upon his mother, to-wit: Turner had stripped Mrs. Seysin to 



21 

the waist, then tied her hard and fast, and whipped her severely to 
force her to disclose where was concealed a party of Whigs, among 
whom was her son. Butler sternly rebuked the act as cruel and con- 
trary to the rules of civilized warfare. Though warring against a sav- 
age, relentless foe, yet he was high-toned and chivalrous to a fault. 
Seysin was brought to trial before the corps. The verdict was in his 
favor and no court martial was held. The deed was certainly savage 
and cruel, but the strong, palliating circumstances of the whipping of 
his mother was in his favor. 

A pursuit of Cunningham's men was ordered immediately by But- 
ler for the purpose of capturing or finally dispersing them. Some 
were overtaken while crossing the river and some in the forest. But- 
ler was disposed to be lenient and merciful, but he soon saw that his 
men, rough, illiterate and prejudiced, were ungovernable. Such is, 
and has evei been, the result of civil strife. Alas ! the horrors of war 
when a common country is divided. 

"All that the Devil would do, if run stark mad, 
Is then let loose. 

No threats or orders could deter them from shooting the 
fleeing Tories. He ordered one DeLoach, who was in the 
act of firing his rifle, to desist ; while another by the name of Sher- 
wood Corley, who was just behind him in the river, snapped his pistol 
at one of the retreating Tories, and though he was ordered to cease 
from firing, yet deliberately reprimed his rifle afresh, fired and killed a 
Tory by the name of Davis as he was ascending the Edgefield bank. 

"In vain he did whatever a chief may do 
To check the headstrong fury of that crew. 
In vain their stubborn ardor he would tame. 

But, alas! 
The hand that kindled could not quench the flame." 

The result of this action was the breaking up and final dispersion of 
Cunningham's famous band. He himself retired to Cuba, where he 
was awarded after his arrival something like an ovation by the Brit- 
ish for his traitorous services. After the war. Major Gandy, a gal- 
lant partisan of^the Revolution, visited Cuba on account of his health. 
Cunningham in the true spirit of hospitality called upon him. and 
while chatting with him about the war, told him that on one occasion 



25 



he had ridden up with an escort at his back to a house near Ninety- 
Six, in which Gandy and others were playing cards, with a view of 
ascertaining if William Butler was among them. 

"Why did you not fire upon us ?" asked Gandy. 

"I had no desire to kill you," replied Cunningham, "but if Bill But- 
ler had have been there, the floor of that house would have been 
^flooded with blood. 

Cunningham, before he left, extended an invitation to the Major to 
dine with him. Whether he did so or not tradition does not say. 
Here he died. He was a man born to command, of an unyielding 
and independent obstinacy of character, possessed of splendid mili- 
tary ability, bold, courageous, yet revengeful and vindictive. He might 
have won for himself an imperishable name of honor, but by his trea- 
son he wiped it out in the betrayal of his country, and his name re- 
mains to the ensuing age abhorred. 

From the conclusion of this skirmish and the blotting out of Cun- 
ningham's band, until the close of the war, Butler continued at the 
head of the Rangers under the command of General Pickens, and 
was considered his favorite captain. He had, however, now very 
little duty to do, other than patrol to perform, consequently — 

"The trenchant blade, Toledo trusty, 
Grew rusty." 

His company of Rangers was not discharged until after 1784, a year 
after the peace. 

With the resumption of peace and the pursuits of civil life, the 
soldier's thoughts turned from — 

"The burning shell, the gateway wrench'd asunder, 
The rattling musketry, the clashing blade, 
The charge, the shout, the tones of thunder, 
The diapason of the cannonade," 

and reverted to the young girl of the Saluda— the star of his wor- 
ship — 

"Whose gentle ray 
Beam'd constant o'er his lonely way," 

whom he saw at Savage's house during Greene's retreat from Ninety- 
Six, which has already been narrated ; nor had she forgotten the 
young officer of the cockade and plume, for when the mother and 



26 

family bitterly opposed his attentions, and her step-father forbade 
him to visit her at his house, she boldly and fearlessly proved by her 
determination and pluck that — 

' Love is net reasoned down or lost ; 
It grows into the soul, 
Warms every vein and beats in every pulse," 

for she told him to come and she would meet him. The result of it 
was they were married in the latter pait of 1784. Miss Bethethland 
Foote Moore, whom William Butler had selected as his partner, as 
the wife of his bosom, was a woman of strong, and in many respects 
remarkable, traits of character. She always exercised great influence 
over him, and he relied upon her judgment and advice. He seemed 
to have inspired her with a deep and profound feeling of respect, al- 
most amounting to fascination, which of itself is one of the highest 
tributes that cuuld be paid his memory. 

In 1794, William Hutler was elected by the Legislature of South 
Carolina, which was then the custom, to be the sheriff of 96th Dis- 
trict. He discharged few of the ministerial duties, however, leaving 
these to be carried out by his brothers, Thomas and Stanmore, who 
were his deputies ; but, as to one thing, he always conducted the mil- 
itary escort of the judge dunng the sitting of the courts. The sher- 
iffalty of that day was an office of high distinction. It was esteemed 
as an office of honor, which could only be obtained by men of virtue, 
merit, honesty and worth, but now it hath lost its lustre and reputa- 
tion, and resolved itself into a mercenary purchase. 

William Butler, as sheriff of 96th District, received General Wash- 
ington when upon his Southern tour, from the authorities of Georgia, 
and conducted him by the Pine House to the Kidge in Edgefield Dis- 
trict which was near the termination of his territorial jurisdiction. At 
the Ridge, General Havnpton, then sheriff of what was called Camden 
District, received and conducted him to Granby, situated on the Con- 
garee river, about one mile and a half below Columbia, through by 
Camden, and thence to Charlotte, North Carolina, where the authori- 
ties of that State received the illustrious patriot and Father of his 
Country. 

In 1798 General Pickens resigned the office of Major-General of the 
Upp'^'r Division of Sjuth Carolina militia, and through his recom- 



27 

mendation William Butler was elected by the State Legislature to fill 
the vacancy. In 1800, General Butler became a candidate for Con- 
gress against Goodloe Harper, the incumbent from the 96th District. 
Mr. Harper had been a Republican, but from conscientious mo- 
tives joined the Federals, and supported what was peculiarly unpop- 
ular at the South, " Jay's treaty." This raised oppositiou to him at 
home, and General Butler was elected as the opposition candidate, his 
old commander, John Ryan, moving the nomination. He succeeded 
in the election, and took his seat in 1801. When the resolution charg- 
ing General Wilkinson with complicity with Burr in his attempted 
treason was moved and adopted in the House of Representatives, 
the occasion gave rise to great sensation. A discussion took place 
upon the floor of the House as to the Chairman of the Committee 
of Investigation. A ballot was called for by Wilkinson's friends. 
The motion was overruled, and the duty of making the appointment 
devolved on the Speaker. He appointed General Butler. Wilkinson 
at the time made some offensive remarks, something of this kind 
" That he was not only to be tried by a militia General, but that he 
was condemned before he was tried." Tliis being reported to General 
Butler, he resigned his position on the committee. Roger Bacon was 
appointed to succeed him. Oyvmg to the remarks, unfriendly com- 
munication passed between him and Wilkinson. They, however, in 
course of time became reconciled. 

In 18 1 3. General Butler resigned his seat in Congress, distinctly and 
conclusively, in preference of all others, to Mr. John C. Calhoun, the 
great Southern statesman, saying to him, " You can meet Randolph in 
debate — I cannot." How few would acknowledge so candidly their in- 
feriority to-day, and resign their seat in Congress to put in even a Clay, 
Webster or another Calhoun. That was the age of giants and 
men. Verily, the days of r.oblenessof soul and pure integrity have 
passed away. Each one at the present thinks he is the observed of the 
observers. Cicero, Demosthenes, Patrick Henry, aye, Solomon, the 
wise man, was a fool beside them. 

Butler's admiration for Randolph was very high, and notwithstand- 
ing they differed in opinion as to the war of 181 2, they continued to 
entertain friendly relations. Butler on a certain occasion spent some- 
time with him at his hom^tead, by invitation, in returning from Con^ 



28 

gress. In 1814, General Butler was called by Governor Alston, in a 
very complimentary manner, now on record in Washington, to com- 
mand the troops of South Carolina at Charleston. President Madison 
had in 181 2 offered to him the commission of Brigadier-General in the 
United States army, but he declined it, saying, " He was a Major- 
General at home. ' General Jackson was appointed to command the 
forces at New Orleans, while General Butler was in command at 
■Charleston. They had been comrades in early life, and Jackson sent 
him word, " That they were both called militia generals, but that he 
knew whichever was attacked first would do his duty. General Pick- 
ens, who was a man of some military ability, had an idea that he knew 
exactly how, as unfortunately was the case during the late civil strife, 
by a goodly lot of persons, to prescribe the mode of defense for 
Charleston, which was this : To allow the enemy to land and then 
•fight them through the streets from behind barricades. Butler's re- 
sponse to him was, " That when he assumed the command, he ex- 
pected to consult the dictates of his own judgment, and he should 
meet them at the water." An incursion was made upon one of the 
islands for the purpose of f^upplying provisions to the fleet off the 
coast, and a slight affair occurred, in which Captain Dent, of the navy, 
was principally engaged. The incursion was repelled. This was the 
only engagement with the enemy of any portion of General Butler's 
command. It had fallen to the lot of his friend to vindicate the abil- 
ity of militia generals. The war terminated with the battle of New 
Orleans, and General Butler became a private citizen. From this pe- 
riod to the close of his life, he confined himself principally to the bus- 
iness of superintending his farm. During the time he was in Con- 
gress, his seat was twice contested. First, by Dr. Seriren, a man of 
high character, and afterward by Edmond Bacon, a man of decided 
ability. The last contest ^ave rise to the unfortunate issue known as 
"old and new parties of Edgefie'd." It was bitter and acrimonious, and 
led to many painful contentions. Mr. Bacon, however, became not 
only reconciled with, but afterwards a warm friend of General Butler 
and others, whose names are to be found upon the journal to consider 
the adoption of the Federal Constitution, and they voted against it. 
He was subsequently a member of the convention which formed the 
State Constitution, that held its own until changed by the Republican 
party of 1868. 



29 



General Butler's brothers were first, Thomas, who was regarded a 
man of considerable military talent ; second, Sampson, who was sher- 
iff of Edgefield, and for many years a representative from that district 
in the State Legislature ; Stanmore, who was a captain in the United 
States army during the time war was expected with France, and was 
also clerk of the Court of Edgefield when he died ; and last, was 
James, who was killed during the Revolution in the skirmish on 
Cloud's creek. He had two sisters, Nancy and Elizabeth. The first 
married Elisha Brooks, who was a lieutenant in the Revolution ; the 
latter married Z. Smith Brooks, who was also a lieutenant in the Rev- 
olution,, and subsequently a colonel of State cavalry. He had eight 
children, to-wit : James, who was sheriff of Edgefield District and a 
colonel of State cavalry at his death. George Butler was a lawyer, 
and during the war of 1812 served as major in the regular army. Wil- 
liam was a physician, and was a surgeon in the army at New Orleans ; 
he also served one term as a representative in Congress. Frank But- 
ler was a lawyer. Pierce M. Butler was an officer in the regular army; 
was president of the Bank of the State of South Carolina — was Gov- 
ernor of South Carolina, and fell in the battle of Churubusco, in Mex- 
ico, at the head of the gallant Palmetto regiment ; Emmela, the only 
daughter, was married to General Waddy Thompson, who was a law- 
yer, a member of Congress, and Minister to Mexico, Leonti,ie died 
young. Andrew Pickens Butler, who passed away a score of years 
ago, and whom I knew well, was admitted to the practice of the law 
at an early age. rose to distinction in his profession, was elected a 
Judge by the South Carolina Legislature, and was finally elected by the 
same body as Senator to Congress, where he attained an enviable 
position. 

General^Butler was a handsome man. He stood fully six feet high. 
He Wcis a good shot with the rifle, well versed in woodcraft and a 
splendid horseman. His love for horses amounted to a passion. He 
would have nothing but the finest blood on his place. He considered 
it a defect in his sons not to ride well, and was in the habit of making 
them break his colts, until upon one occasion, when a dare-devil filly 
was to be broken and two of the boys, Pickens and Pierce, were draw- 
ing lots to see who should have the honor of doing it, Mrs, Butler 
interfered saying, she could stand it no longer ; that they were her 



i 



30 



children as well as his, and if the filly was to be broken, why not let the 
negro boys do it. General Butler yielded, carelessly remarking in a 
humorous tone, with a smile playing around his mouth, " Well, my 
dear wife, be it so, but it would not hurt the boys to be thrown off, as 
the ground has just been freshly plowed," "No, mother," exclaimed 
the boys at the same time. " a little exercise to-day would be beneficial." 
At one time he was engaged upon the turf, and was in most cases suc- 
cessful. Upon one occasion, when he had entered into an engage- 
ment to run a race, some circumstance happened, by his financially 
assisting a friend, that run him short. Under the circumstances, how- 
ever, as his word was his bond, he put up as a bona fide collateral a 
favorite family body servant, whose name was Will. It annoyed him 
in no small degree, that he had to put him up. But as the vulgar adage 
runs, " Fortune favors the brave," so it seemed with him. He won the 
race. It was his last. Returning home satisfied and rejoiced, he 
communicated to his wife what had taken place. Upon hearing his 
statement, she read him a curtain lecture on the evils likely to result 
from horse-racing and gambling, and then solicited a pledge from him 
to the effect that he would never run another horse race or gamble* 
Forthwith he gave his pledge never to be guilty of the like again. 

Having retired from all public business, and in a great degree hav- 
ing abandoned the most of his old habits, as horse-racing and sporting 
in general, he became almost a stranger in the midst of society, 
amusing himself with agricultural experiments, and in trying to pro- 
mote the happiness of his children and domestics, friends and neigh- 
bors. His health, which for sometime had been delicate, owing to the 
exposure and hardships endured during the war, gradually declined, 
and he passed away on the 23rd of September, 1821, in the beginning 
of his 63d year, with remarkable calmness, composure and dignity, 

"Like one who draws the drapery of his couch 
About him, and lies down to pleaaant dreams." 

While he left but little of anything that can be gathered from his- 
torical statements that is and was remarkable and more wonderful 
than can be said of thousands of others, yet what may be and has 
been penned by his son, as well as confirmed by many old citizens, 
who well recollected of him in the years gone by when I made inquiries , 
was that he was a man of note and decided mark in his day and time. 



31 

General Butler was a man of but little education, yet of strong im- 
pressions and great self-reliance. One strong peculiarity marked his 
public, as well as private character, which it would be well for many of 
the members of the Legislature, as well as of Congress, of much less 
calibre to model after. He had an utter contempt for long letters and 
long speeches. He frequently, when conversing on this subject, al- 
luded to John Rutledge as one among the best speakers he ever heard, 
commending him chiefly for his brevity. He himself, whenever he 
addressed his constituents or an assembly, always made brief, pointed 
speeches, and he never wrote a letter over a page long, and that to the 
point. His sheriff books were a model of official exactness. During 
his life neither gain nor personal aggrandizement had any power to 
bend his principles and independence. In his political conflicts, no 
breath of suspicion ever assailed his integrity or dimmed the escutch- 
eon of his honor. He could not have been induced to vary on any 
cherished opinion, except confronted by sound reasons, for the highest 
positions. Fawning and flattery were foreign to his nature. Keenly alive 
to any breath upon the purity of his motives, ancestry or character, he 
took no pains to cultivate notoriety. He was no literary scholar nor 
fluent orator. Though his connection with most of the events nar- 
rated was a subordinate one, yet he always had his own decided, de- 
termined opinions. Possessed of an excellent judgment, trained and 
educated in the academy of common sense, and graduating in the col- 
lege of experience, which to mortals is a blessing and providence, he 
might truly be put down as a scholar of rare and undoubted might. 
As to his courage, he was as brave as humanity could possibly be. He 
had his faults ; it would be fortunate for any of us who could be 
charged with less, but the error and frailty which belonged to him of- 
ten took their color from virtue itself. On these he needs no silence, 
even if the grave, which has long been closed over him, did not re- 
fuse its echoes, except to what is good. 

His reputation was the product of no hot-bed appliances, as used at 
the present day, but slowly and noiselessly it grew, strong and high, like 
the tall pine of his native country and State, whose head revels proudly 
in the sweeping winds. As an office-holder, he was courteous,respectful, 
and attended to the wants and requirements of his constituents. As 
a citizen, he was law-abiding, loyal and true. As a son, obedient and 



32 

submissive. As a brother, his love was like that of Jonathan for Da- 
vid. As a husband, he was affectionate, devoted and constant. As a 
father, kind, loving and considerate, though he was absolute master of 
his household, making his children entirely subservient to his com- 
mands. As a friend, though his friendship was not demonstrative, 
yet it was strong and enduring. As a foe, he was manly and honor- 
able. As a man, would there were more like him. 

Silently in the deep stillness of that dreamless state which knows 
no waking earthly joys again, he reposes in the old burying ground on 
Big creek, in Edgefield District, S. C, while from the silence of the 
tomb and from the dust and bones that may lie in the coffin that con- 
tains them, there come forth lessons of warning and admonition,, 
speaking in tones of thunder, fraught with experience and wisdom to 
the youth of his native State, who are just entering private and pub- 
lic life, with all its temptations and seducements before them ; that 
there are tricks and shams and intimidations that are and 
will be set as pitfalls in their paths. With much that may 
be noble and inspiring about them, there are and will be mani- 
fold inclinations to sloth, to fickleness, and it may be to corruption. 
Who can tell whether some of them have not already set their feet in 
the way that leads down to moral death. They need the tones of 
that voice, whom we are now reviewing, which never directed the 
coward's retreat, the splendid calm of that clear face and blue eye, 
that kept its serenity and brilliancy amid all dangers and difficulties 
in the times that tried men's souls, and when the battle by day or 
night around him was at its thickest. They need the actual sight of 
and association with all such as he was, who by example and precept 
will elevate their aims, establish their character and make them truly 
patriotically private as well as public servants for the public good. 
And for those who are connected with public affairs to- day, and who 
desire to maintain and preserve an honorable reputation, what better 
course can be suggested or given than for those to emulate the patriot- 
ism, the steadfastness, the courage, the manliness, the sobriety, the 
honesty and the justice of William Butler ! 

He speaks in characters that never die, 
The haman greatness of an age gone by. 



i^^ V/INSOR HOUSE ^^^ 
By McDonald & cole, 

531-ii S. Pryor, ----- Atlaiita, Georgia. 

ONE BLOCK FROM UNION DEPOT. 
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